Robert Burns Quotes on Poetry
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Wee, sleekit, cow'rin, tim'rous beastie, O, what a panic's in thy breastie! Thou need na start awa sae hasty, Wi' bickering brattle!
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Green grow the rashes, O; Green grow the rashes, O; The sweetest hours that e'er I spend Are spent among the lasses, O.
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I was na fou, but just had plenty.
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Flow gently, sweet Afton! amang thy green braes, Flow gently, I'll sing thee a song in thy praise. My Mary's asleep by thy murmuring stream, Flow gently, sweet Afton, disturb not her dream.
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While Europe's eye is fix'd on mighty things, The fate of empires and the fall of kings; While quacks of State must each produce his plan, And even children lisp the Rights of Man; Amid this mighty fuss just let me mention, The Rights of Woman merit some attention.
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She is a winsome wee thing, She is a handsome wee thing, She is a lo'esome wee thing, This sweet wee wife o' mine.
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But, oh! fell death's untimely frost, That nipt my flower sae early.
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For a' that and a' that, It's coming yet, for a' that, That man to man the world o'er Shall brothers be for a' that.
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Oh, my Luve is like a red, red rose, That's newly sprung in June. O, my Luve is like the melodie, That's sweetly played in tune.
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John Anderson, my jo, John, When we were first acquent, Your locks were like the raven, Your bonie brow was brent; But now your brow is beld, John, Your locks are like the snaw, But blessings on your frosty pow, John Anderson, my jo!
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As Tammie glow'red, amazed, and curious, The mirth and fun grew fast and furious.
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'Weel done, Cutty Sark!'